Breakin' Your Back For Someone Else's Sake
by SomedayonBroadway
Summary: The riot was happening around them. Chaos seemed to be swallowing the city whole. But he was running back anyways. "Davey, no!" And the Refuge wasnt too far away.


**Hello friends! I'm back with another request!**

 **This one took me a while to write, but I enjoyed writing it.**

 **equine02, I hope you enjoy this one!**

 **Please enjoy!**

"Cheese it! It's the bulls!"

Chaos erupted within the riot around him. Somehow, the panic seemed to increase as not only thugs were about to rip their heads off, because that wasn't enough. No, they needed the cops to help out with that one.

"Jack! Wait fer me!"

 _Crutchie..._ the kid stood in the middle of it all. Newsies were booking it to the nearest exit and that boy was limping as fast as he could, desperate to escape the cuffs that would soon surely be wrapped around his thin wrists.

"Where do ya think you're going, gimp?!"

"Stay down, ya worthless crip!"

He recognized the voices. They belonged to the brothers, the ones that the older boys liked to tease and mess with constantly. The ones that Jack constantly had to stand in front of so they wouldn't pounce on his boys. Their names... what were their names? D... Duane? No no no... Delancey! That was them.

He could see them. Crutchie was swinging wildly with his wooden crutch as he was on the ground, dodging blows from brass knuckles and a broken bottle. A man was moving in towards them. He looked vaguely familiar, like maybe he'd seen him once in passing. It didn't click until the boy turned his head just slightly to see Jack, breathing hard with wide eyes as he stared terrified at the scene happening in front of him. The newsie leader was crouched down just outside of the gates, clearly trying to figure out what to do.

"It's off to the Refuge with you, little man!"

 _"That's Snyda'... the Spida'! A real sweetie!"_

The jail for underage kids... the _Refuge_. That place that Jack Kelly, one of the toughest kids in the city, was still afraid of, even after making his apparently miraculous escape.

"Jack!"

"Crutchie!"

No. This wasn't happening. Not to them. These boys had been through too much from what he'd seen.

"Davey, no!"

David ignored Jack, rushing foreword towards where the crippled boy was now being beaten with his own crutch. Without thinking, the tall, scrawny sixteen year old who had not even an inkling of a clue what it was like to live on the streets, much less take a blow, lunged forward and stopped the next swing of the wood in mid-air.

The man- _Snyder_ \- his eyes were like a black hole. There was nothing but a broken anger inside of them, ripping to shreds any chance of compassion or understanding that he could hold inside. David mustered up every ounce of bravery that he had, ripping his new friend's crutch from the old man's grip, using it immediately to shove him backwards and get a hit at one of the brothers before he wrenched the little boy up and handed him his crutch, shoving him as roughly as he could in the direction of Jack who had somehow forced himself to move closer to the scene. "Run, Crutchie!"

" _Kelly_..." someone growled. David's eyes widened.

"Jack, run!" he cried, barely getting to watch Crutchie jump on his best friend's back and watch Jack begin retreating with a look that clearly said, _"I'm so sorry!"_ As David tried to rush after them, an arm wrapped around his throat, brass knuckles blinded him when the sun hit them just right and the boy was reminded that he'd never been in a street fight before. He had no idea what to do next as he saw the man that every newsie feared so much running after his unlikely friend. His body moved without thinking and his legs kicked out in front of him, knocking the man to the ground and feeling his heart drop down into his stomach as he realized what was bound to happen next.

Snyder pushed himself up and it was abundantly clear to the young teen how incredibly alone he was. There was no newsie left in sight as the soulless goon towered over him, despite David's tall figure. A snarl left the man's lips as he looked his new find up and down, seemingly disgusted before a fist was suddenly in the boy's gut. Davey doubled over and the arm around his throat slipped away just in time for him to be shoved down onto the ground, belly on the hot cement and cheek being shoved down, burning against the ground that was still being heated up by the much too bright sun. Though winded and discombobulated, he could make out a very rough and direct order; "Cuff him!" The boy had no air left to cry out as his arms were twisted behind his back and sharp metal tightened around his wrists.

David was still wheezing as they lead him out and away to the place that every newsie called pure hell.

The Refuge.

Jack couldn't breathe. The spider was right behind him; he was going back. He _couldn't_ go back! Not again...

Running was natural. He'd been running practically his entire life. Even as he was out of breath, he ran, going and going until he could see it. His rooftop. _Their_ rooftop. Crutchie clung to him, refusing to let go for anything. Scared didn't even begin to describe how that kid was feeling. Jack could feel him trembling, holding back sobs and burying his face in his shoulder.

Without thinking Jack began climbing. He prayed that the man he'd feared for so long wasn't still behind him. He couldn't be, because Jack _couldn't go back._ There was no _"escape again"_ situation. If he went in there again, he wasn't coming back out.

When he was sure they were safe, he let Crutchie back onto the floor of their home. The boy seemed to be calming down, if only slightly. Jack only stopped for a brief second to catch his breath before he slammed his palm down on the railing of the rooftop. Then he did it again. And again. He didn't realize he'd been letting out frustrated screams too or that he was stomping and kicking out in anger.

A kid, an _innocent_ kid with a two loving parents and a baby brother, had just taken someone's place in Hell; a place that was no doubt meant for Jack Kelly.

"Jack! Jack you have to stop it! You's gonna hurt yerself!"

"They's took 'im!" Jack cried, suddenly shaking at the thought. "They's took Davey... Crutchie, he ain't s'posed ta be there..." the newsie leader choked out, his throat tightening. Davey wasn't supposed to be there. The Refuge wasn't a place for a kid who'd never known what it's like not to have food for days. It's not a place for a kid who didn't know how to fight or protect himself. It was no place for David Jacobs.

"I's s'posed ta be there..." Jack's eyes snapped up to his best friend at that. He looked at the boy who was still terrified and shook his head.

"No ya weren't." That boy, that innocent, pure, perfect little boy had no business being in that hell either. It couldn't happen. Crutchie was a tough kid. A boy living on the streets with a bum leg had to be, but The Refuge wasn't the streets. In the Refuge, no kid was lucky enough to get stale bread, much less a penny for their troubles. Jack survived the Refuge. Not many other kids did. "Ya weren't, Crutchie."

"How can you's say that?" He didn't understand. Jack knew he didn't understand. David saved him, sure, but Jack wouldn't have let them take him anyways. No way in hell was his little brother going to that place. That didn't mean he wanted to tell the kid that.

With a shake of his head, Jack turned and grabbed his bag that he'd carried with him everyday ever since he'd begun selling papers. "Jack... what're ya doin'?"

"Get'cha things, kid."

"What?"

"Get your things!" Jack repeated, almost in a panic. He didn't know what else he could do. He just wanted out. These boys... these _kids_ were out there suffering, running from every bull in sight, starving without a penny to their name, all because Jack had to open his big mouth. "We're leavin'. We gotta go. You n' me, pal. Santa Fe. Let's go." His voice shook. These boys were all he'd known for a long time. But they didn't need him. They needed so much better.

"I ain't goin' nowhere, Jack! We can't leave the boys like this!" Jack winced at his friends tone. He was appalled that the only thing Jack could think of was running. Jack didn't understand that. Running was what he'd always done best.

"The boys wouldn't be in this mess if it wasn't for me!"

"You're right, Jack!" It hurt. Those words _hurt_. Even when Jack knew them to be true. "You're right. If you's'd said nothin' we wouldn'ta started the strike. An' we's woulda let 'em beat us again n' again, jus' like we always do! Not this time, Jack! I's tired a' bein' pushed around!" Jack was sick of it too. He broke his back time and time again for these kids because no one else would. They didn't know what it felt like to stand up to someone who treated them like dirt. And Jack hated it. "Ya can't just go out n' start runnin', Jack... Davey's in the Refuge. We's gotta finish this thing and get him out."

"Davey's... in the Refuge?" came a much younger and much more terrified voice. Jack's heart broke into pieces when he turned his gaze back to the latter of his home and found a little boy named Les standing ridged, arm in a sling and legs wobbling, in front of a much taller boy who must've carried him up to see Jack.

"Jack, I's sorry... I tried ta take him home..."

"It's okay, Racer," Jack promised lightly, unable to even offer a smile as the younger newsie refused to meet his eyes. Race had some pretty nasty bruises on his face, the worst of them being a good shiner on his cheek right below his eye. His nose had been bleeding, if it wasn't still and he was as jumpy as ever.

It was then that it occurred to Jack that he had no idea how he looked at that moment. There was no doubt in his mind that he was covered in bruises too, blood probably seeping from a cut on his head. Crutchie wasn't too bad off, his beating having been more on his torso than his exposed skin, but that thought only worried Jack more. His little brother had to be hiding his wounds and that was something that Jack would beat himself up for everyday.

Les was a wreck. Jack has seen that look before. He vaguely remembered someone calling it a panic attack. Plenty of his boys had gone through them, struggling to breathe right and shaking like a leaf. Jack always had to calm them down somehow. It looked like Race had tried his best judging on how exhausted the kid was, but the new information had just shoved little Les back into his own terrors.

"Les... c'mere, kid..." Jack gestured for the boy to sit down next to him as he lowered himself onto the rooftop a little ways away from Crutchie. Les scurried over, letting Jack wrap an arm around his shoulders and rub a hand up and down his arm.

"Race si'down 'fore ya fall ova'," Crutchie ordered. Race didn't have to be told twice. He dropped down next to his friend and wrapped his arms around his knees while Jack glanced down at the little kid beside him.

"Hey... I know i's a little scary, kiddo... but I's gonna go talk ta Davey tonight... he's gonna be j'st fine, a'ight?"

"You promise?"

Jack's heart shattered. He'd only known these boys for a day or two, but he saw how close they were immediately. Les rarely left his big brother's side, despite how curious and impulsive he was. But he couldn't say that Davey would be alright. He didn't know that for sure. For all he knew, David could already be clinging to life on the dirty wood floors and begging for Snyder to just kill him.

It wouldn't be the first time that happened to one of Jack's newsies.

So all Jack could do was hold the boy a little closer and blink the tears away from his eyes. "Yeah kid, I promise."

It wasn't like he expected. Truthfully, David didn't exactly know what he'd been expecting. He'd only known this band of misfits called "Newsies" for a day or two. All he knew about this place was that it made some of the boys go pale at the name and it made Jack run like hell. He thought maybe they'd just been trying to scare him or been too young to understand the true dangers of the world.

He was wrong. He was so incredibly, ridiculously incorrect.

He was bleeding. Blood was pouring out of him from at least three different places. His nose for sure. David wasn't sure he could breathe right. It wouldn't stop. His arm had a long cut, running from his elbow almost up to his shoulder, wrapping around his skin throbbing, making sure the boy knew that he couldn't move even if he wanted to. There was a smaller wound on his hip they still stung a little. He couldn't move to stop the bleeding. It was too much.

 _"Where are the rats?! Just tell us and all of this can stop!"_

He could've. He could've sold them out. After all, he didn't really know them. They were just some kids begging for pennies on the streets without a warm home to go back to or a bed to sleep in at night.

He couldn't do it.

David's whole body hurt. He'd never been in such pain before. Fights had never been his thing. At school, he'd seen boys rough each other up, but they always got in trouble. He'd known Jack for only so long but even he knew that Jack got in fights more to survive than anything else. He fought to protect himself and his brothers. Just because David hadn't taken a punch before didn't mean he wouldn't do the same thing.

When a hand touched his shoulder, David flinched, tremors shooting through his spine as he did so. But when he pried open his eyes, he saw another little boy hovering over him with a sorry look on his face. "Someone's at the window ta see ya..."

The window... it was so far away. He could barely turn his head to look over at it. "Who 's it?"

"He's famous 'round here. We call 'im 'Cowboy'," the child said, looking over with an admirable look in his young, broken down eyes. "Real name's Jack, I think..."

 _Jack..._ he couldn't be here. He'd be caught.

"Tell 'im ta go 'way..." the kid mumbled, letting his eyes fall closed once again. But his voice apparently carried to the window.

"Jacobs, I ain't kiddin'!" Jack hissed. "Get'cha dumbass ova' here, now!"

As much as David wanted to do anything other than go over there, just because Jack had told him to, there was something in the older boy's voice, something identified as desperation. So Davey shook his head and groaned, turning from his back to his side, until he was practically crawling to the window. "I-I don' take orders fr'm you, Kelly..."

"Yeah, okay... that's why ya didn't come ta the window," Jack scoffed sarcastically as he reached through the bars and helped David stand up. The kid made it up, only for one of his legs to give out. He gripped hard onto the bars of the window to keep himself upright, but he couldn't contain the scream that slipped off of his tongue. "Whoa whoa whoa, kid... take a breath."

David didn't realize he was wheezing. Not until he started getting lightheaded and Jack had to steady him by grasping onto his shoulder. "Jack, ya gotta go... Snyder's gonna catch you-"

"I don't give a damn about that, Dave," Jack spat out, glancing behind his friend with fear in his eyes for just a moment before returning his gaze back to the beaten kid in front of him. "We gotta get ya outta here, okay? We... we're gonna get ya outta here."

"Jack... you have to go back ta your boys. They need ya more 'n me..."

He could hardly force the words out. His chest hurt. He was dizzy. His eyes were drooping.

"Davey, stay with me, kid... it's gonna be okay, I promise."

How on earth could he promise that? Nothing was okay, especially not David in the Refuge. There was absolutely nothing okay about that.

"I'm fine."

"Like hell you are..." Jack muttered, still having to grasp the boy's shoulder to steady him as he swayed on his feet. "What did the Spida' do?"

"It doesn't matter, Jack! You have ta go!" Davey was desperate. Snyder couldn't find Jack here. If the boys inside were telling him he was getting it easy for a newsie, he couldn't even begin to imagine what that man would do to his new friend.

"I can't just leave ya here, Dave!" Jack hissed, gripping onto a bar with his free hand so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Les is terrified! Ain't none of us c'n get him ta calm down. Not ta mention you's have a family! Ya don't belong in here!"

"Then go fight this, Jack!" Jack stopped, clenching his jaw and blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. "I ain't gettin' outta here till the strikes over. They're scared, Jack. You can win this thing."

"What?" _Win_. Yeah, okay. This is what it looks like to win.

"They had an entire army of bulls and thugs waiting for _you_ at the circulation gate," the beaten boy pointed out, as if it was obvious. Jack still didn't understand. "Why would they do that if they had nothing to be worried about?"

"Ya know... ya might be right..."

"Course I am," David smirked, feeling just a bit of his pain melt away. "I'm the brains of this operation."

With a laugh, Jack nodded and reached up to ruffle his friend's hair. "Yeah you are, kid..."

"But Les..." David was almost afraid to ask, though sight of his little brother being dragged away flashing before his eyes before he could focus in on Jack again. "Les is okay?"

Okay was a stretch. "He's okay... his arms a little busted up an' he's scared ta death that you's here..." Jack sighed, unable to meet his friend's eyes. "But... we ain't gonna let nothin' happen ta him. You's looked out fer my brotha'. I'll be damned if anythin' happens ta that kid, okay?"

David clung to Jack's words, slowly nodding his head and sniffling back a sob or two. It was gonna be okay. Les was gonna be okay. "Okay... you's got a strike ta win, Jackie... what're ya doin' here?"

Jack forced out a breath as he glance behind his friend one more time, giving his shoulder a squeeze and pretending like he didn't see the blood that covered the younger boy. "We'll get'cha outta here, Dave. I promise."

And with that, the mysterious Jack Kelly was gone. And David was left alone once again to lower himself back to the ground.

They could do this.

 _He_ could do this. After all the abuse those boys had gone through in their small lives, David was proud to take this pain instead of them. "You got this, Jackie..."

"Ya don't got this, Jackie... God, what're ya gonna do?" Jack grasped at his own hair and paced the floor of the musty basement.

They'd given him a choice. An awful, impossible choice that would absolutely ruin somebody no matter what. Stand with his boys, get them hurt, bleeding in the Refuge next to Davey who might be dying because that kid's never known pain in his entire life, or betray his boys, lose the only family he's ever known, leave them to fend for themselves and go out to Santa Fe leaving a boy he barely knew in the Refuge and Pulitzer to push around the working kids of the city.

But at least they'd be alive, right? Crutchie... the kid would still be alive.

For how long though? It wouldn't be long before the Delanceys closed in again. And Race... that kid was a hell of poker player, but Jack couldn't leave him to lead a group full of kids like that. Race wouldn't know what to do and he'd be too overwhelmed and _God_ what was he doing?

But if he left... no more stupid decisions. No more mess of a leader. Maybe if he left they'd have a chance. Maybe Snyder would stop going after all of them to get back at the boy who outsmarted him and got away.

Maybe they'd be better off without him.

Why did he have to be so stupid? Why couldn't he just be some mute kid who did what he was told because that was how the world worked! Why was he trying so goddamn hard for something so incredibly pointless.

And Katherine...

A scream ripped from Jack's throat at the thought of her.

She was a rotten, cold hearted, backstabbing goddess and Jack hated her with everything inside him. But when he imagined her smiling at him... he didn't know. He was so confused. Why was this all so confusing and hard? He didn't understand. What did he possibly do to deserve this?

"Lemme outta here!" Jack cried out, banging his fists on the door. He didn't like it. Just because he was some kid, living on the streets with pennies in his pocket didn't give them the right to trap him like this.

He heard laughing on the other side. They could hear him panicking. Hell, _he_ could hear himself panicking. The door was locked and it felt like the oxygen was being pulled from the room.

 _"You can stay down there until you learn to control your mouth!"_

Jack shuddered at the memory. He had. He'd stayed down there, in that stupid basement, getting beaten every night and cut open when he told the damn Spider that he wasn't worthless.

But he was. The seven scars down his right side were just reminders. He couldn't protect Crutchie. No matter how hard he tried to convince himself, he knew that if David hadn't stepped in, Crutchie would've been there, in the Refuge, the place that still haunted his nightmares. And because he wasn't brave enough to stop it, an innocent kid with a family could be the next victim of a drunken warden who didn't hold back when he was intoxicated.

If Davey didn't make it Jack would never forgive himself.

Who was he kidding? Jack didn't forgive himself anyways.

David screamed when someone's foot met his gut, snapping him from his sleep with force. The air was forced from his lungs as he dared to look up at whoever thought they had a right to treat children like this.

It was none other than Snyder himself, smirking at him watching him pathetically try to scramble away. He couldn't. His entire body hurt. He couldn't stand up. The ground was starting to hurt his back, his head was pounding so hard he could barely hear himself think, his cuts and his bruises were only seeming to get worse and now he had to do it all over again.

It was only then that David took the time to actually wonder how many of the boys had actually been to the Refuge. Jack for sure but... he hadn't heard anyone else say anything about it. They were all just terrified of it.

Now he knew why.

He heard the screams that echoed throughout the entire awful building before they just stopped completely.

Those kids didn't come back.

David didn't want to die. He was all his family had. If he didn't sell papes, his family didn't eat. His father couldn't work like he was and his mother couldn't handle a job on top of all she already did. Lord knows Les couldn't support the family. He wasn't even ten years old. If he died, his family wouldn't be far behind him.

Before David could even begin to beg like he imagined his new friend had done several times over again, Snyder was squatting down next to him and grabbing his hair, forcing him to sit before shoving a paper in his face. "It's time for another chat, Mr. Jacobs," he grinned. David shook his head.

"Please... I can't..."

Only, Snyder didn't care. And David didn't know how much more of this he could take.

"Let's get a move on, _boy_." The way the man said it was degrading. Before the Refuge, David had absolutely no idea what it felt like to be humiliated. He'd never known what it was like to begin to give into the hate that someone else pinned on him. He was a disgusting street rat. He was worthless.

He wasn't strong enough for this.

"Jack... please hurry..."

"That was some speech you made..."

Jack rolled his eyes. He didn't need this. Not now. How this girl got up here and was now going through his things was a mystery to him. A mystery he didn't care enough to hear the story of. "What the hell are ya doin'?"

"Crutchie showed me-"

"n' he said ya could go through my stuff?" Jack yelled, barging over and wrenching the paintings she held in her hands from her grasp. Crutchie... his best friend wasn't talking to him. Jack had tried to get him to understand, but the younger boy had walked away from him. God, what was he doing?

Katherine made a noise of offense before gesturing to his small case that he headed over to immediately. "I saw them rolled up, sticking out of there! I didn't know what they were!" she cried in defense before her expression softened just a little bit. "It's the Refuge isn't it? Three boys to a bed, rats and vermin everywhere..."

"What? A little different from where you were raised?" Jack spat out bitterly.

"My father said you were arrested for stealing food and clothing... this is why, isn't it?" Jack slowed in his movements. Of course that's why he did it. Those kids... they didn't deserve that... no one did. And now David was in that mess, bleeding or even dying, and there wasn't a damn thing Jack could do about it. "I don't understand!" The boy flinched at the shout. "If you were willing to go to jail for those boys, why are you turning your back on them now?!"

That was it. That was the last straw. No more. "I do not think you are one ta talk about turnin' on folks!" he yelled, whipping around to face the young woman.

"I never turned on you to anyone else!"

Scoffing and shaking his head, Jack countered, "oh no, you just went ahead an' sold us out ta your fatha'!"

"My father has eyes on every corner of this city! He doesn't need _me_ spying for him. And I never lied." She was impossible. "I didn't... tell you everything..."

As another scoff left his lips lifted up a hand and clenched it together. "If you weren't a girl you'd be tryin' ta talk with a fist in your mouth," he warned, glaring at her hard, almost daring her to say another word.

Eyes filling with determination, Katherine continued, "I told you I worked for the Sun and I did, I told you my professional name is 'Plumber', and it is! You never asked my real on!" And somehow this was all his own fault.

"I wouldn't think I had to unless I knew I was dealin' with a backstabber!"

She daringly took a step closer, her fists clenched at her sides as her arms shook with anger. "And if I were a boy you'd be looking at me through one _swollen eye_!"

"Don't let that stop ya, _princess_!" he challenged, grabbing her wrist and catching the fear that sparked in her eyes as he placed it underneath his chin. "Gimme your best shot!"

Next thing he knew, he was silenced by another pair of lips and he couldn't find it in himself to want to pull away. He melted into it without a second thought, suddenly feeling everything bad in the world melt away, even if only for a moment before she pulled away, her eyes wide and full of shock as she touched her own lips, wondering what on earth she'd just done.

One taste and Jack was addicted. He leaned in for more before regaining his composure and standing up straight again as she took a step backwards. He stuttered for a moment, trying to find anything to say. She shook her head, still in shock. And just as she might've spoken again-

"Okay, enough of the mushy stuff!" came a voice from below them. Jack jumped backwards a little bit at the sudden new voice. He frantically searched around before his eyes landed on familiar blond hair and optimistic green eyes. "Katherine, would ya just tell him the plan already?"

Taken aback, Jack stood for a moment, glancing back and forth between his friend and the girl he thought was against them. "What plan?"

"We're gonna win this thing, Jack!" Crutchie cried, excitedly, pulling himself up onto the roof and grinning at Jack like a madman. "We c'n do this! N' we's gettin' Davey outta the Refuge n' the Spida' ain't gonna know what hit him!"

Those were words that Jack hadn't known he'd wanted to hear. No matter how badly he wished to continue talking to this girl about what the hell had just happened, even he had to admit that he was intrigued. "Alright, _Pulitzer_... let's talk..."

David didn't know what was happening. One minute he was still and the next, it felt like he was in a carriage. He could hardly open his eyes and it hurt like hell to try. Both of them were swollen shut, not to mention the splitting headache he had. He didn't know where they were going. It crossed his mind that maybe Snyder had given up and decided to dispose of him somewhere, leave him for dead. It wouldn't surprise him.

"Hey! Buddy! Wake up! We're here! We're here!"

That voice was much too excited for any gruesome idea that David had on where they were. The boy that was addressing him was the same that had woken him up before, when Jack had been at the window. Why were they here?

"Okay, boys. Joyride's over. Get out!"

 _Out?_

Some kind of brave strength took over the boy at that word. He cracked open one eye only to squeeze it shut again when the bright light flooded into the darkness, blinding him for a moment before he allowed himself to open his eye again, hope filling his veins when he saw that they were outside, behind a crowd of people all cheering and screaming too loudly for David to focus in on.

Before he could protest, his arm was latched onto. He was being dragged until his body met the dirt. "Davey? 'S that you?"

That voice was familiar. Brooklyn accent, hint of Italian... "R... Race?"

"Jack! Jack! It's Davey! He needs help!"

David couldn't speak, even as he heard a gasp and a very faint, "David?"

But that was all David heard before he passed out.

 _"They don't care about you! You're not one of them!"_

 _"Stop it, you worthless little bastard! No ones coming!"_

 _"If you're not careful, you'll find yourself in the basement before you can blink, boy."_

The words echoed in his brain. He could hear himself screaming and yet he couldn't move. "Whoa, Davey... Settle down... ain't no one here but you n' me..."

"Jack?"

"Christ, kid... he gotcha real good..."

David bit back a bitter laugh. "Somethin' like that..." he admitted dryly, feeling a cool rag on his forehead. He was willing to bet at least one of his arms was wrapped up with a bandage and most of his cuts had already been disinfected. "Jack... was I-"

"Screamin'? Yeah, kid... ya lived through hell. Of course ya was screamin'..." The way Jack said it made it sound like it was almost normal, like this was supposed to happen, like he'd be worried if David wasn't screaming.

"Wh're's Les?"

"Downstairs with the boys, Dave. Don't worry 'bout him. Worry 'bout yourself sometime. You're the idiot with a broke arm and a whole lotta bruises." David didn't want to worry about himself. He wanted all of it to be a dream. After that... he wouldn't ever be the same. He wouldn't ever think the same. He didn't want this.

"He liked it when I screamed..."

Jack tensed at the words. "I know, Dave..." He did know. He also knew that when a kid who didn't know how to take a punch went in there, they didn't usually come back.

Davey wasn't supposed to come back.

"It hurt real bad... he wouldn't lemme breathe..."

That explained the deep purple bruises around his friend's neck. God, it should've been him. "I know, kid..."

"Jack... am I worthless?"

Jack felt his heart shatter into millions of tiny pieces. That wasn't the first time one of his boys had asked that. The last time, Jack had told them they weren't right before they'd taken their last breaths. "No! Hell no, kid. You're brilliant n' you're a smart ass n' ya managed to get an entire group a' kids ta fight f'r somethin' good n' we won! We won, Davey!"

"We won?"

"Yeah we did, kiddo! An' it's cause a' you!" Jack could only vaguely feel the tears on his cheeks. David looked awful. He was beat bad. There was no telling if he'd make it or not and that was the worst thing that could possibly happen. This kid had barely been a newsie for a week and the world had already choked him.

But the boy hummed in approval. Before shifting a little on the bed. "Jack?"

"Yeah, pal?"

"Can I talk ta Les?"

"Of course, Dave..."

The little boy came running when his name was called from the top of the stairs. David could hear him. He wanted so badly to smile, but it hurt even to do that. "Les?"

"David!" Jack watched as Les held himself back from launching into his big brother's arms. The kid seemed so upset that he couldn't touch David and so Jack took a few steps closer, gently grabbing the boy's hand and guiding it to Davey's. The beaten kid only flinched a little before wrapping his fingers around Les's.

"I love you..."

"I love you too, David..." Les sobbed out, seeing how tired and beat his big brother was. "You're gonna be okay, Davey..."

"That's right, kiddo... he's gonna be j'st fine," Jack promised, ruffling the small child's hair.

Davey was gonna be just fine. He had to be.

"Jack?" Crutchie was standing in the doorway, his body shaking slightly as he watched the scene in front of him. When Jack turned to him, the younger boy felt like he could speak. His best friend only walked over to him and took him into his arms. "Is this my fault?"

"Of course it ain't, pal... this ain't no one's fault but the Spida's..."

"What if..." Crutchie sniffled and buried his head in Jack's shoulder. "What if he don't make it, Jack? He w's protectin' _me_..."

"He's gonna be fine, Crutch. I promise... Snyder's gonna go ta prison n' everythin' is gonna be fine..."

"But..." the crippled boy hesitated, slowly pulling away and wiping at his eyes. "What if Snyder gets out?"

What if... the worst words in the English language. Jack knew that was a possibility. Snyder has connections. But right now, his friends needed reassurance. "He won't, Charlie. He won't... I'll make sure of it..."

And make sure of it, Jack would.

 **And there you have it.**

 **Thank you so much equine02 for the request do Davey going to the Refuge! It was really interesting to write! I really really hope you enjoyed it!**

 **So, I'm thinking about writing a Christmas oneshot. I have an idea for a Jatherine one. Anyone have any holiday requests?**

 **Next up for an update: Top Secret. Stay tuned!**

 **As always, thanks for reading! Make sure to tell me what you liked, what you didn't, what you'd change or what you'd improve by leaving me a review! Love ya, fansies!**


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